The New Professor
by sokolski
Summary: Headmistress Hermione is pleased with her new choice of DADA professor; that is, until he becomes a little too interested in her.
1. Behavior of a Boy

Headmistress Hermione Weasley stood at her desk, awaiting the arrival of her newest teacher. She was fuming from head to toe, and looked as if she were about to burst into flames at any moment. Her arms were crossed sternly in front of her chest, and her foot was tapping resolutely on the floor. She heard a knock at the door, and took a deep breath before saying, in the darkest tone she could muster, "Come in."

A young man entered the room, flipping his long white-blonde hair out of his blue eyes. The cheeky brat had the nerve to give her a smirk before prowling slowly up to the chair before Hermione's desk. He looked at the chair, and then raised an eyebrow at her. Huffing, she gruffly told him to "Have a seat." The young man smoothly folded his tall frame into the hard wooden chair. He glanced around the room slyly, in a way that made Hermione very uncomfortable. His eyes fell on the picture of her deceased husband, Ron, and she decided it was time to do some lecturing.

"Professor Malfoy! What a ridiculous display of indecency in the Great Hall, in front of not only all of our students, but the teacher and Head Auror Potter as well! How dare you! What on earth were you thinking?" Hermione finished her little rant, cheeks red and eyes angry.

"I've told you to call me Scorpius, Headmistress Weasley. And I have no idea as to what you could possibly be referring." Scorpios eyed her levelly, and for a second she was distracted by how pale the blue of his eyes were… but only for a second!

"Why, of all the… you know exactly to what I am referring! I am referring to the kiss, Professor Malfoy. The kiss! You do not kiss the Headmistress in front of more than a thousand people!"

"I see… so I can kiss her when it is just the two of us, say, in her private study?" Scorpius' eyes darkly regarded her and he stood up, and glided over to Hermione's side of the desk.

"No, no, just you stay away from me, no, no NO KISSING!" Hermione stumbled backwards, half falling over a velvet footstool, trying to put as much distance between herself and Scorpius as possible. She suddenly realized that she was backing away from him and stood her ground, whipping out her wand at the same moment that Scorpius drew forward, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. She pointed her wand at his neck.

"What are you playing at, boy? You are just a child! If your behavior persists, I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove you from your position, ingenious mind or not! Actually, I'm inclined to think you possess a rather stupid mind, because it is rather stupid to cross me, boy."

Scorpius reached up and twirled a finger around one of her long brown curls. Hermione flinched, but held her ground, wand positioned right at the pulse point of his pale neck. "Someone's got their knickers in a twist, love. You do realize you just called me boy twice? I believe you need to be taught a lesson. When was the last time the grand Headmistress received a lecture? Because I would be more than happy to instruct-"

Hermione cut him off with a slap to the cheek, not unlike the one she had given his father all those many years ago. Scorpius scrambled backward, eyes burning with fury and a dark flicker of something stronger.

"Young man, I will overlook your behavior today." Hermione sniffed and carefully lowered her wand. "It was decidedly out of line, but it is your first day as a professor, and I am certain that the stress of the position has addled your otherwise intelligent brain. Go see Professor Zabini and request a Calming Draught. I am sure he will be more than happy to comply. You could use a good rest before classes begin in the morning. You are dismissed." Hermione refused to look at him as Scorpius slinked out of the room, instead straightening a useless stack of parchment. As soon as she heard the final door at the bottom of the staircase close, she heaved a long, frustrated sigh.


	2. Frustration of a Woman

Hermione would never admit it to herself, but she was frustrated. Again. About the same blonde professor who was currently clapping Hagrid on the back as they shared a laugh about the stupidity of the blokes who ran Magical Customs.

"I once knew a man who picked up a tube of Demiguise hair in Bulgaria, security barely even questioned 'im when he crossed the border! Didn't even pull out there wands, and blimey, that's slackin'. Made up a story about his wife havin' twins whiles he was gone, or sommat like that." Scorpius started coughing as Hagrid returned the back clap, slapping the young man heartily. Scorpius nearly fell over, but as always, he regained his composure just in time to give Hermione a polite and formal nod as she headed to her seat.

The sky was a rather odd shade of gray, hinting at rain, yet denying it all at the same time. Hermione shook her head and looked fondly out over her students while Professor McGonagall chatted to her about a nervous young muggleborn first-year. They seemed to be thoroughly enjoying their breakfast. A little too thoroughly, Hermione noticed, as she narrowed her eyes at a trio of boys practically shoveling the food into their mouths. It reminded her of Ron…

With a sudden smile, she turned back to Professor McGonagall. "Is this young muggleborn in your house, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall gave her a stern look, the cause of which Hermione could not fathom, until Minerva replied with a curt, "Well, seeing as I've just spent the past five minutes discussing my worry about his placement in a certain _green_ colored House, I would think you could have worked that out for yourself by now."

Hermione blushed and bowed her head. "I don't think there's any need to worry. Blaise is an exemplary Head of Slytherin. I'm sure that he will soothe the boy in his own way, as soon as possible.

"But you see, my dear, that is exactly what I am worried about! What is the Slytherin way to soothe? Certainly not open conversation and the clearly needed assurance of self-worth that this boy requires!"

Hermione turned to her former professor, choosing her next words carefully. "Minerva, I believe there was a reason this boy was placed in Slytherin. He belongs there. The Sorting Hat knows what it is doing. I'm sure that the way Blaise will comfort him will be the exact way the boy (Thom, did you say his name was?) needs to be comforted."

Apparently she hadn't chosen her words carefully enough. Professor McGonagall huffed something about "insensitive professors" and "male lack of communication." Hermione decided it was time to change the subject.

"Minerva, does it seem like some of the professors have been… I don't know, avoiding me this past week? I feel like I'm being treated… differently." Professor McGonagall glanced quickly down the staff in a bit of a huff, she gave Hermione an uncharacteristic smirk. A smirk that reminded her acutely of Scorpius' looming presence in her office the week before.

"My dear Hermione. There comes a time when all women begin to recognize the slow progression of age. You're not as young as you once were, you know." Professor McGonagall took a last sip of Earl Grey and headed to her classroom. Hermione sighed, and rubbed her forehead tiredly. The problem had kept her up the entire night. Why had Scorpius' behavior towards her changed so drastically? One day, he was kissing her in front of all Hogwarts, the next she's the old Headmistress to be avoided at all polite opportunities! Perhaps her lecture had been a bit harsh. Hermione made a mental note to call Scorpius up for a meeting; she needed to check on his progress anyway. The need to have a meeting had nothing to do with his blue eyes. Nothing at all. In fact, she wasn't even sure why they had suddenly popped into her mind.

Before leaving for her office, Hermione scanned the Slytherin table. She noticed a smallish boy sitting towards the front, rigidly twirling his fork in leftover syrup. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Hermione smiled to herself. He probably had. If he looked that surprised, he was probably Thom, the muggleborn Professor McGonagall had mentioned.

Surreptitiously, Hermione withdrew her wand. She muttered a harmless, yet impressive, curse at a nearby fifth-year Hufflepuff, a girl she knew would soak up the attention. The girl's plate suddenly flew up and exploded over her head. She screamed as large gobs of syrup sped down towards her, only to be left with a stupidly open mouth and a chain of daisies hanging around her neck as Hermione muttered another spell.

"Thomas Bicken! Stand forward this instant!" The Hall went silent. The little muggleborn boy stood up and looked at Hermione with terror-filled eyes. "Although that spell was quite impressive, that is not the way to attract the attention of a pretty girl!" She made a show of regarding him for a second. "However, that was an impressive piece of magic… ten points from Slytherin, but five for getting the incantation right."

Hermione swept from the Great Hall, looking back at the last moment to see little Thom surrounded by a gaggle of interested Slytherins. With a smile, she headed up to finish some personal research on Demiguises. Her curiosity was piqued from Hagrid's earlier conversation with Scorpius.

Unknown to her, Scorpius watched as Hermione made her showy exit. That Thom kid hadn't escaped his notice, marked from day one as a sort of outcast from his housemates. Hermione's quick spellwork also hadn't escaped his notice. Scorpius smiled broadly to himself. Oh yes. His woman was one hot, kind, feisty little witch indeed.


	3. Mystery of a Boggart

Hermione entered the room as her dark blue robes swished about her. She looked regal, with a straight-backed posture and a determined look in her ash brown eyes. Students turned in their seats to see the Headmistress walk in with a curt nod to Scorpius. He acknowledged her politely, and carried on with his lecture. Hermione couldn't help but smile at the students, who were throwing her interested glances.

Scorpius tapped impatiently on his wooden desk. "You can't know the future." Some of the girls (this was a third-year class), sniggered and whispered something about Divination. Scorpius and Hermione both glared at them. Hermione was slightly surprised; it would seem Scorpius had a thing against Divination as well. Actually, she shouldn't have been surprised to find anyone disliking the subject, she thought with a wry grin.

"You never know where you might find yourselves. A dip in the Great Lake could turn into a confrontation with Grindylows. A spin on your broom might find you facing an Occamy." His voice grew low and quiet. "A walk in the Forbidden Forests might introduce you to a Grim… and possibly death along the way." Scorpius now had the attention of everyone in the room. His mouth was set in a foreboding line, and he looked solemn enough to preside at a funeral. Someone sniffled, and Scorpius suddenly broke into a wide grin.

"But luckily, you lot have a secret weapon… a devilishly handsome, somewhat mysterious, incredibly powerful blond haired fellow." The boys grudgingly laughed, crossing their arms, obviously not happy with the pink blushes and feather light giggles of the girls. Scorpius waggled his eyebrow at one young brunette sitting in the front row, her eyes wide and adoring. She practically fell out of her chair.

"In the next few weeks, we will be learning the basics of defense against potentially harmful creatures." Scorpius began circling the room, passing out strangely colored glass tubes. Hermione strained to see what was inside them. Many of the students eyed the tubes warily.

"Inside these tubes, you will all find a miniature boggart. Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?"

A young Slytherin in the back rolled his eyes and raised his hand. Scorpius called on him, and for a moment Hermione was lost in thoughts of Professor Lupin and her own experiences as a third year…Hermione realized Scorpius was again talking.

"…is exactly right. I would like you all to write an essay for next week." The class groaned in unison. "Tell me about boggarts. Pretend you are describing the creature to a Muggle. I want to know their habitat, lifestyle, and magical abilities, as well any other relevant facts you may come across in your research. After you have written the essays, but before class next week, I would like you to find an isolated place to open your tubes. The mini-boggarts inside of them will transform into your worst fear. This transformation can only be sustained for about ten seconds, and then the boggart will dissipate into a cloud of smoke. This is to prepare all of you for what you will have to face next week; although the transformation will last far longer than ten seconds when you're dealing with a fully-developed boggart. Alright, all of you, any questions?"

The noise of the classroom faded to a background murmur as Hermione's palms began to sweat. She glanced at the clock. Any second now, and the students would leave, and she would be left alone in this big empty room… well not quite alone. Hermione glanced at Scorpius, and when she saw him regarding her seriously, she quickly looked down at the floor. She pretended to be absorbed in a large green rug, with an intricate design of silver phoenixes, flipping it back and forth with her shoe. She stared at the tiny silver wings as the students rushed past, eager to go to lunch. Somehow, she knew when the last one was out, and only then did she find the courage to look up at Scorpius. He was busy putting leftover mini-boggarts into a large dark box.

Hermione tried to shake herself. She had no idea what was making her so nervous all of a sudden! For goodness' sake, she was one of the most famous witches in the world! She was Headmistress of Hogwarts! The determined look returned to her eyes, and she walked over to the young "devilishly handsome" young man. He had definitely inherited the Black family looks. His jaw was strong and firm. It made her feel safe, for some reason. He had a small, slightly upturned nose, high cheekbones, and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen, if she was being perfectly honest with herself. He moved with an easy grace, and she admired the way he seemed to carry himself effortlessly as he finished tucking the box away and turned to her.

"Headmistress. A pleasure, as always." He dusted his hands off on his robe, and Hermione suddenly felt tongue-tied. His hands looked awfully strong. "What can I do for you?"

She came back to her senses. "Oh, um, I was hoping we could have a little discussion about how your classes are going. It seemed like you certainly had their attention today." She gave him a warm smile, and Scorpius suddenly felt hot.

"They are going rather well, Headmistress. Don't tell the kids I said this, but those third-years are really a bright lot. Sometimes I feel almost inadequate, as if they should be the ones teaching me!" Scorpius suddenly seemed to realize that it sounded like he was saying the job was too much for him.

Backtracking, he walked to a large cupboard on the left side of the green rug. "Perhaps you would like to see what I have planned for next week?"

"I have a better idea." Hermione eyes him shrewdly. "Let's get that boggart out and see what happens!" Scorpius smiled.

"Alright Headmistress, but you'll have to go first. I would love to see such an accomplished witch in action, even if she is a little competitive, apparently."

Hermione sputtered. "Competitive? No, I just haven't had a go at a boggart in years, and besides, it will be good for me to see if the new professor can handle taking his own lessons!"

Scorpius leaned in slightly closer and his eyes held an intent look. "I would love to be your…student." Leaving Hermione slightly shell-shocked behind him, he swished away, opening the cupboard without warning.

Hermione screamed. Her daughter Rose lay on the ground, bleeding from a gash in her head. Pulling herself together, she waved her wand with a cry of "Riddikulus!" Instead of disappearing, the boggart turned into something else. Hermione had no idea what it was, but a cold chill shot down her spine, and she was instantly terrified and frozen to the spot.

"Are those… stars?" Scorpius whispered in awe, as the boggart began advancing. It had changed into a large letter H, with a cluster of stars growing brightly around it, closing in on the H ever tighter, seeming to almost choke it. Scorpius saw Hermione's terror and instantly stepped in front of her, but she came back to her senses with a bang, and shouted the spell angrily at the boggart, which Scorpius instantly ran to and stuffed back inside the cupboard. Neither said a thing, as Hermione stood staring at the spot her wand was still trained upon. Scorpius went over and tentatively laid a hand on her arm.

"Hermione?" The use of her first name brought her slightly out of her trance-like state. She grabbed onto his hand, her eyes still filled with fear.

"I never was good at that spell," she whispered, clutching his hand tighter. Her eyes welled with tears.

Scorpius did not quite know what to do. Oh, he knew what he wanted to do; kiss that trembling bottom lip and stroke the tears away. But something stopped him. He stood awkwardly for a second, his normal devil-may-care attitude temporarily gone, and at length offered her a green handkerchief. Hermione blew her nose rather loudly and solved the problem for him by laying her head against his chest. He put his strong arms around her to keep her steady. She closed her eyes, and all she could see were stars, sparkling, ready to consume her. She opened them again instantly, and her heart caught in her throat at the look Scorpius was giving her, at the way his face was tilted so tenderly down towards hers.

It scared her almost as much as the strange boggart, and she abruptly fell away. Scorpius couldn't quite prevent a slight frown at the sudden absence of Hermione's warmth.

"I-I have to get going. Minerva, she-she really needed my help on something…"

Scorpius watched her hurry out the door, and all he wanted was to reach out and tell her to come back. But once again, something held him back.

Hermione ran along the corridors at a blinding rate, anxious to get back to the safety, the aloneness, of her office. As soon as the door shut behind her, she clenched the handkerchief to her face, letting sobs rack her body.

It was not until quite some time later that Hermione went down to see Professor McGonagall about a problem between two of the Gryffindor students. She didn't notice that the green handkerchief, which lay discarded and drenched by the door, was intricately laced with soaring silver phoenixes.


End file.
